Date: Fri, 21 Oct 2011 06:38:03 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joe Hunter <hunterjoe45@yahoo.com>
Subject: Baseball Diamond Tails - 3D

All the usual disclaimers apply:

+This story is a work of fiction.  If you think it is real, you have a very
active imagination.

+Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do
so.

+Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and a young boy are
represented.  Do not read further if this offends you.

+Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot
accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story.

If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Support Nifty!   Joe

____________________________


BASEBALL DIAMOND TAILS - 3D
(copyright 2011, Joe Hunter)

:::::::::::::::::::::
 First Base:  Part D
:::::::::::::::::::::

Our time would end with the summer.  JC and I both knew that now, so we
tried to be together as much as we could.  The extra work on fielding and
hitting gave us cover and we took advantage of every possible opportunity
to spend time in private at his house or mine.

JC wore out his ingenuity thinking up ways of staying with me overnight or
on weekends.  "I've pretended to stay with every boy on the team and some
of my friends on the others," he told me with a grin.

The best times came when his grandfather and mother were away and we could
use his house and pool for our own purpose.  In the evenings after practice
or games, I would prepare supper in the big kitchen for the two of us and
we would talk quietly.  As I worked, JC usually stood next to me, clad in
just his jock or a big loose shirt, his slim sturdy body leaning on mine,
arm around my waist.  He seemed to want physical contact with me at all
times when we were alone, as if to be continually assured of my presence.

After one particularly close game we were standing together that way while
I thawed and cooked some fish the two of us had caught the previous
weekend.

"The dream is still alive, Coach," JC told me with a grin.

Our victory that night had maintained the undefeated string, and now only a
couple of games remained in the regular season.

I knocked on the wooden counter.  "Don't tell anyone, but I'm starting to
hope.  I see us getting through the regular season.  It's the playoffs that
scare me.  I've seen funny things happen in playoffs."

"I hope we do it, Coach," JC said dreamily.  "I'm going to try my best."

I gave the boy a quick hug.  He wore the jock that night and I loved the
feel of his bare shoulders.  "It's really good your pitching has come along
so well," I told him.  "You gave us two good innings tonight."

"I played a good game, didn't I Coach?"

"You played a super game."  I hugged him again and grinned.  "How's our
other project doing?"

JC giggled.  "I practice every night.  I'm getting real good."  He wiggled
a little against me.  "I feel like practicing some right now."

"Why don't you?  These fish are gonna' be a while longer."

JC ran to his room and came back with the wooden dowel I had given him and
a tube of KY.  With a mischievous look at me he slipped off the jock.  His
straining adolescent erection, released from the tight pouch, jutted out in
a slight upward curve.  Using a dab of KY on his palm JC stroked the rigid
boy stick.

"I like to be really hard when I do it, Coach," he said with another impish
grin.

Hopping onto the counter like a gymnast he swung his legs around and
settled on the cabinet top with his knees pulled up.

"JC, be careful," I fussed.  "Keep your feet away from the stove."

He giggled.  "I'll be careful Coach."

After spreading KY on the dowel, JC used another palm full on his stretched
ass, and then slipped the dowel into his opening with a practiced hand.  I
watched him adjust to the dowel's fullness, his butt wiggling a little and
his tanned thighs and graceful lower legs gleaming in the kitchen lights.
JC closed his eyes.  I saw his body tense as he bore down.  Then with a
slow steady thrust the boy impaled himself on the smooth round hardness,
sliding the wooden shaft deep into his body.

He uttered a soft, involuntary moan as the shaft penetrated and then
reached with his other hand to began stroking himself, moving his fingers
up and down on his rigid branch.  When I reached over and gently stroked
the silky skin on the inside of his thighs he moaned softly again and
strained his legs apart.

"You're really getting good at this," I whispered.  "You don't lose your
boner now when it goes in."

"Mmmmmmmm..."  JC kept his eyes closed.  He began to slide the dowel in and
out of his rectum.  "Coach, this is sooooo good," he crooned.

"Have you tried anything else besides the dowel?"  I asked him.

Eyes opening wide, he stopped moving for a second.  "What should I try?"

I went to the refrigerator, rummaged around and brought out a large
cucumber and a banana.

"Try these," I said giving them to him.

JC carefully withdrew the dowel and put it aside.  He examined the fruit
and the vegetable I had given him.

"Do the banana first," I suggested.  "It's not as big.  But it's soft.
Don't push too hard.  You'll have to be open all the way to get it in."

JC giggled.  He smeared the banana with KY and then pulled his knees up,
reaching around carefully to position the point of the ripe fruit.  As I
worked at the stove just a few feet away, I had a perfect view.

JC strained his legs apart and tensed, pushing down.  I watched his scarred
ring dilate, opening like a flower, and then JC slid the banana into his
body.

"Coach!" he laughed, "It's cold!"

"Careful," I warned.  "Don't squeeze down on it."

JC laughed again and I saw his butt tighten involuntarily.  "Oops," he
said, laughing.  "Coach, I can't help it.  It's cold."

He withdrew the banana and we both looked at it.  His little ring had
squeezed the middle of the ripe fruit like a tube of toothpaste.  The top
point had burst and some of the pulp was pushing out.  "Look Coach," JC
said delightedly.  "The banana came in me."

"I guess that wasn't his such a good idea," I said looking at it ruefully.
"Try the cucumber."

The cucumber was much larger than the banana.  It was at least as thick as
my member.  JC held it and felt its round firmness.  "It's big," he said
uncertainly.

"You can do it," I told him.  "Just go slow and remember to relax."

The boy greased the thick vegetable and then lay down on the counter top,
drawing his knees up and parting his thighs.  He placed one end of the
cucumber on his anal ring, tensed and bore down.  I watched his opening
gape with the cucumber tip filling it completely.

JC gave a slight gasp.  "It's big," he whispered.

"Take your time," I told him.

The boy rested for a moment.  Then I saw him bear down again and push.  The
thick vegetable slid an inch into his body.

"Ahhhhhhhh..." the boy groaned.

"Go slow."

"It's stretching me," he said faintly.

"If it hurts, take it out."

JC shook his head.  I saw him strain his legs up and apart and then he
moved the thick cucumber in deeper.  Less than half the big vegetable was
left outside, jutting from his hole.

"Ohhhhhhhhh," the boy groaned as the huge mass filled him.  He had softened
while inserting the thick vegetable, and now a small trickle of urine
dribbled from the tip of his limp member.  The boy lay sprawled on the
countertop with his lips parted, eyes staring unfocused.

"Big..." he murmured dreamily.  "Coach, I'm all full."

I took a paper towel, dabbed up his urine and then kissed him gently.
"Feel good?"  I asked.

JC nodded.  His eyes remained glazed, staring into space.

He stayed like that as I finished preparing his meal, occasionally writhing
his hips and pushing the cucumber deeper into himself.  At last I reached
over and stroked the side of his long, supple thigh.  "Time to eat, Tiger."

"Oh Coach, I want to this in me forever," JC moaned.

His boy stick had already begun to stiffen.  I reached down to begin
stroking it, the little tuft of sparse blonde pubic hair at the base
tickling my fingers.  JC's eyes closed and he moaned with pleasure.  His
thick little adolescent rod swelled to rigidity as I rubbed harder and
faster, my fingers sliding up and over the sensitive tip.

The beautiful boy twisted under my hand, squirming in passion, his head
falling back and legs straining apart as a tide of sensation washed over
him.  His feet writhed and then twitched as a quick contraction jerked the
rigid shaft beneath my pumping fingers.  Slippery milky droplets ran from
the tip and I rubbed faster.

"Coach...  Coach..." moaned the boy, straining his head back to arch his
body.  "Oh...  Ohhhh..."

With powerful, pulsing jerks JC sent sweet spurts of boy juice arcing up
out of his rigid shaft to land on his smooth chest and lean, taut belly
while he writhed and moaned in ecstasy.  As his contractions eased he
relaxed back onto the countertop with a long sigh.

"Take your hand away now," I told him, "And just let it come out by
itself."

JC removed his hand from the cucumber and let his knees sag apart.  Very
slowly the muscle tone of his rear end expelled the thick vegetable.  I
stroked the boy, and as I rubbed the streaks of boy come into his skin I
felt his body relax completely.  I cupped and massaged his butt while his
anal ring closed and then, reaching between his legs, picked up the
cucumber.

"I guess I'll wash this and put it back in the fridge."

"Coach!"  JC exclaimed, giggling.

"Just don't eat any salads for the next few days."

The boy almost choked with laughter.

I picked him up, stood him on the floor and handed him his jock.  "Get
dressed, hot shot.  Practice is over for now.  You've got to eat your
supper."

JC was laughing so hard that it was a while before he could eat.

- - - - - - - - - - -

We finished strong that season, winning our last two games easily.  Too
easily, I was thinking.  Afraid the boys would get complacent and lose
their competitive edge, I gave them a few hard practices the following week
to shake them up.

"Championship playoffs are this weekend," I told them.  "Sudden death, win
or go home.  Two more games - if you go all the way.  Two games that will
decide everything.  You've had a fine season.  An unbeaten season.  Now you
can forget it!  That season's over.  The championship playoffs are like a
whole new beginning.  Your past record won't help you."

I paused, and looked at each one of their faces.  I had their full
attention now.

"I've seen amazing things happen in playoff games," I told them.  "Teams
that have played terribly all summer suddenly come together and win
championships.  Unbeaten teams disintegrate out on the field and get
eliminated - their championship dreams gone.  Don't let that happen to
you!"

After pausing to let that sink in I went on, "Don't underestimate either of
the teams you're going to play just because you've beaten them before.
Never forget - they want revenge!  Think of every game as the first you've
ever played.  Go out and prove you're the best!"

I looked at them all and smiled.  "I know you'll do it!  Because I know you
ARE the best.  I'm proud of every one of you.  I want to see you all go out
there and show the world how good you are!  We have batting practice
tomorrow, so come early for extra swings.  I'll see you then."

JC helped me pick up the equipment after the others had left.  "Coach," he
said, "If we do good in the playoffs, you think I'll get picked for
All-Stars?"

From the tone of his voice I knew he was serious and for a moment I felt
such a rush of love for the boy I had to pause to gather myself.  Even now,
after all the hundreds of times I had told him how good he was, he still
needed reassurance.

"JC," I answered, after swallowing the lump in my throat, "Win or lose, I
know you'll do great.  You're the best I've ever coached, and if they don't
pick you for All-Stars I'll have to quit the league."

"I just wanna' do good 'cause it's my last season," the boy said, looking
determined.

After tossing the heavy equipment bags into the back of the truck I put my
arm around his shoulders.  "The championships this weekend...  All-Star
tournaments after that...  Summer's gonna' be gone..."

JC's hand went around my waist and we hugged each other.

"Is your mother taking you off on vacation after All-Star's?"  I asked.

He nodded.  "And after that I go away to school."

I considered for a few moments and then pointed to the great mountain range
stretching across the horizon in front of us.  "JC, you know that place
where I took you fishing?"

He nodded.

"Look beyond it...  See that big peak back in there?  The one that's higher
than all the rest?"

"I see it," he said softly.

"Way up back in there is a high mountain lake, frozen almost all year.  But
for a few months in the summer you can swim in it.  You have to go in at
noon when the sun's hot, because the water is ice cold.  Wildflowers grow
all around it...  Alpine meadows and high peaks...  It's wild and lonely.
No one ever goes there.  How'd you like to see it?"

"Yes," the boy said eagerly.  He looked up at me.  "When?"

"After the playoffs, I'll take you.  Win or lose, no matter how things come
out.  There'll be time before All-Stars.  We'll go for three nights.  You
think you can get the OK from your folks?"

"I know I can!"

JC leaned against me and we both stared at the faraway peak.  "Soon," the
boy whispered.

- - - - - - - - - - -

We had perfect weather for the championships that year, hot and clear.  In
the first, semifinal game I took a chance and went with my second-best
pitching.  My gamble paid off; we won the game so my best hurlers were
saved for the final.  JC hit a home run in the last inning, putting us
solidly in the lead and I remember how proud and happy he was.

It was a good thing I saved my best pitchers, because we needed them that
next day.  The team we played for the championship trophy was the same team
that had nearly upset us during the season.  We were the only team they had
lost to, and they were aching for revenge.  The coach was a good friend of
mine, and he had his boys pumped up.

It turned out to be a classic contest.  I have a video the parents made of
that game and I still get it out to watch now and then.  The score seesawed
back and forth.  JC pitched an inning and did well, playing the rest of the
game at first base.

Since we had the best record, ours was the home team advantage and we went
into the top of the final inning leading by one run.  I had my last good
pitcher on the mound.  All he needed were three outs.

The first two came easily, ground balls scooped up by my well-drilled
infielders - although JC needed to stretch way out to get the second one as
the throw from an excited third baseman went a little wide.  Calling for
time, I trotted out to the mound and signaled the infield to gather around
me.

"This is it guys," I told them.  "Get this last out and it's all over.
Take a deep breath, settle down and play the way you know you can.  Don't
let up.  Just one more.  Let's do it."

The boys put their hands into the circle for a little cheer and then ran
back to their positions.  They seemed confident, but as I returned to the
dugout I had a funny feeling that the ballgame was nowhere close to being
over yet.  The top of the other team's order was coming up and championship
playoffs were so often full of surprises.

How right my instincts were!  Pressure finds odd ways of affecting young
players.  Suddenly, for no reason that I could see, my pitcher lost the
plate.  He walked the next two batters and suddenly that funny feeling I
had wasn't so funny.  My stomach felt queasy.

"You're OK," I yelled out to him.  "Just rock and fire!"

JC ran over from first and talked to the kid.  I saw him nod when JC patted
his shoulder and he must have relaxed a bit because his next pitch was a
nice hard strike.  The batter swung at it, made weak contact and sent a
ground ball right at my star shortstop who put his glove down to make the
play.

To my total shock - and his - the ball bounced under his glove and rolled
into the outfield.

Fortunately our outfielders all knew their jobs and had charged in to back
up the play as soon as they saw that the ball was hit on the ground.  My
little leftfielder scooped up the ball and drilled it to the catcher at
home plate.  This prevented any runs from scoring, but the runners all
moved up.

The bases were loaded and the other team's best player was coming to bat.

The boy was the coach's son, their best pitcher and their best hitter.  I
knew exactly how good he was since I had helped teach him.  A chill went
right up and down my spine.  The game was turning into an eerie mirror
image of the game we had had with them earlier, when JC had tied the score
and prevented an upset.  I could feel the momentum shifting...

I was about to call time and trot out to the mound for another conference
when JC beat me to it.  He ran to the mound and called the whole team over.

There are moments when a good coach knows he should stay out of the way and
let the kids handle things.  This was one of them.  I remained by the
dugout and watched.

JC said something to the shortstop and patted him on the back.  The kid
nodded and then they both said something to the pitcher.  All the boys put
their hands in, gave a cheer and then high-fived each other before trotting
back to their positions, leaving my pitcher on the mound looking confident
and very determined.

A lot of thoughts were buzzing in my head.  Should I tell the infielders to
watch for a bunt?  Should I have the pitcher walk this dangerous batter,
accept a tie score and play for extra innings?  These and other ideas
chased around a bit...

Then I rejected them all.

The hell with playing safe!  Sometimes you can use too much strategy and
think yourself right out of the game.  This was the championship!  My boys
were the best and I was proud of them all.  Challenge the hitter!  Let's
find out who's got what it takes!

"Throw that heat, baby!"  I yelled from the dugout.

My pitcher wound up and delivered a sizzling fastball that hummed as it
went over the plate.  The 'Thwap!' it made going into the catcher's glove
echoed around the diamond.  The batter stepped back in surprise.

"That's one!"  JC yelled from first.  "Two more now!  Stay sharp infield!"

There was a breathless pause while my players dropped into their stances.
The pitcher wound up and delivered another hummer of a strike.  But, this
time the boy at the plate was ready.  He stepped into the pitch and swung.

"TANG!"

He was a little late and swung slightly over it, but it was still solid
contact - a sizzling grounder, just inside the first-base line.  My heart
jumped into my throat.  There was no way it could be fielded.  I was sure
at least three runs with score.

Then, out of nowhere, as if by magic, JC was there.

I have looked at the tape many times and to this day I still can't see how
JC ever got to that ball.  He must have been anticipating it.  He knew the
pitcher was going to throw hard and fast.  Perhaps he saw that the batter
was going to be a little behind the pitch.  However he did it, JC reacted
to the ball with uncanny swiftness.  He threw himself to his left.  On the
video you can see that at one point he is completely off the ground, his
body stretched out parallel to it with his glove straining toward the line.
The ball smacked into it and JC slid across the dirt amid a great cloud of
dust.

At the time it seemed to everyone watching that JC's body had stretched
like elastic toward the line and stopped the ball miraculously, before it
could lose itself in the foul territory beyond right field.

JC's incredible stop had prevented an extra base hit, but there seemed no
way he could make a play or prevent at least one run from scoring.  The
batter was charging up the first-base line, my pitcher racing him to the
bag to cover, but JC was stretched full length in the dirt well beyond the
bag.  It seemed impossible that he could get the ball to the base for the
out.

With an incredible, catlike move JC twisted, lifted up and, with a flick of
his wrist, flipped the ball toward first.  My pitcher caught it as he
stepped on the bag just ahead of the runner.  The umpire screamed, "Yer'
out!"  And, just that quickly, the game was over.

We were the undefeated champions of the league!

I cannot describe the pandemonium that followed because I never saw it.  My
eyes were too blurred with tears.  The video is no help.  All you see on it
is people jumping up in front of the camera and the image jerking crazily
because people are stopping their feet on the bleacher seats.  I remember a
great crush of young bodies swarming over me screaming with excitement, and
then I was standing on the pitcher's mound hugging JC tightly while he
hugged and pounded me on the back.  The boy kept saying over and over, "We
did it Coach, we did it, we did it!"  It is a moment I will never forget.

Later, in my truck, as we rode with all the players and parents to a
victory celebration at the local Pizza Hut I smiled at JC and told him,
"Remember that night when we wished on the falling star?  I've got my wish.
Now it's time for yours!"

The boy did not answer me with words.  He just looked back with his eyes
shining and slid over on the seat to be closer, hugging my arm tightly.

That night, all the coaches met and selected the All-Star team.  JC was a
unanimous selection.  When I called with the news I reminded him to be
ready with his sleeping bag early in the morning when I would pick him up
for our trip into the mountains.

 [ To Be Concluded In The Final Chapter, Part E ]

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Hope you enjoyed it!  This baseball series has a 'long' short story for
every position.  Look for a new chapter or two each month.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment,
my e-mail address is:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

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then select 'Prolific Authors'.  I hope you will read and enjoy!

All the Best.  Joe